


The Weapon

by Star4545



Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell, Simon Snow & Related Fandoms
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, M/M, War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-23
Updated: 2019-07-23
Packaged: 2020-07-11 17:53:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,343
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19932091
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Star4545/pseuds/Star4545
Summary: Simon and Baz are on opposite sides of the war. Simon, a fiery weapon, and Baz, a vampire-mage who feels he has lost his connection to humanity, are about to fight. Neither of them want to. Neither of them know how to control their emotions or know what love is. They find each other and realize that fighting on the battlefield is not the way to go.





	The Weapon

I’ve never seen him in person, just heard about him. _The Chosen One. The Mage’s secret weapon._ I’ve watched him kill people on my side, members of other old families wanting to return the World of Mages to how it used to be, how people like my father think it should be. Now, he’s onto my family. We are the final boss, the last obstacle to get what they want. I look to my right and see my father fight the Mage and then look at the boy in front of me. When I heard ‘secret weapon,’ I thought he was going to be a robot or a werewolf or something, not a boy that can’t be any younger than me. He has this evil glint in his eyes, one that clearly states he is ready to fight. He has the Sword of Mages in one hand and a wand in another, magic rippling all around him making the air smell of smoke.

“ **Head over heels.** ” He casts which is a great way to start any battle. It throws me to the floor and before I can retaliate, he speaks. “ **Stand your ground.** ” This makes me stuck to the ground in a rather unpleasant way.

I try to turn my head to look at him. I hear my father’s words echoing in my head. “ _You good for nothing Mage. You couldn’t save your mother. You don’t want to fight in the war. All you are is a worthless vampire homo, a disgrace to the Pitch family.”_ I have no energy to fight, I don’t want to. I’ve been running back and forth from Pitch Manor to check on my sisters who are too young to fight. Any time on the battlefield, I’ve been fighting someone, and I didn’t really think much of killing the Mage’s Men, but this is a young boy. A boy with some bullshit prophecy hanging over his head making him fight in a war that we shouldn’t be fighting in at all. 'And one will come to end us. And one will bring his fall.' Fucking bollocks.

He’s standing above me now. In any other case, I would make a snarky comment about being a bottom, but this really isn’t the time. He pushes my head into the grass. I can taste the acidic mud. He murmurs the incantation for his sword, "In justice. In courage. In defense of the weak. In the face of the mighty. Through magic and wisdom and good."

“This was easy.” He says. I know these are my last moments. He is going to kill me with his sword and that will be that. He’ll then go to fight off my father and then he and the rest of the World of Mages will stay under the Mage’s rule for all eternity.

I don’t like to talk politics as my views are biased and controversial to the side I am on, but I think it is important for me to share. I don’t hate the Mage, which I know is a big surprise coming from the heir of the Pitch fortune. I hate him for sending vampires on my mother and me. I hate him for choosing a boy to be his weapon and not like an army of immortal vampires (I’m not immortal, but some are). I think he is a fucking lunatic for his outfit choices that all the Mage’s Men are wearing. Lilac and green are never good color combinations but forcing your men to wear tights on the battlefield is just cruel.

Us Pitches go out in style with jackets with our family emblem on it. I don’t hate his reforms though. He is trying to make the World of Mages more inclusive to people of any power level and to half-breeds as well. Watford, the school that my mother was headmistress of before everything went wrong, is not what it used it be. It used to be for high caliber mages with even higher status, now I heard that basically anyone could go. Except for right now where no descendants of Old Families can be enrolled which caused my father to have a field day.

I hate my family’s ideas more than the Mages. All the Old Families care about are lineage, status, and skill level. You have to fit a certain mold that I’ve fallen out of. I’m not attracted to girls in the way that I should be, I’m a vampire, and I’m not fighting back.

“You really aren’t going to fight.” The Chosen One says. I would say something if his hand wasn’t still at the back of my head. “Pathetic Pitch.” He taunts. It’s not like I can do much as I’m bound to the grassy field by spell. He takes his hand off my head, my whole mouth tastes of grass and dirt. I feel degraded.

“I’m not fighting.”

“I saw you fight others. What’s one more?” His voice is menacing. I’m scared out of my wits as the fire around him starts to build.

“You’re just a boy.”

“I’m a weapon.” It hurts me to think that is all the boy thinks of himself. I shouldn’t feel bad. He is the enemy.

“I want the Mage to win.” I say. The ‘weapon’ scoffs.

“Then why did you fight the others?” 

“To keep up an act for my father. Now I’m tired of fighting. Kill me if you want, I don’t care anymore.”

“Who is your father?” I point to where the Mage and my father are fighting. They seem to be going through an intense magickal duel. “ **As you were.** ” I feel my limbs unfreeze and I stand up, tired of fighting but able to put one up if my father looks over.

“You let me up?”

“It was much too easy to kill you there. I like to win fair and square.” I raise my wand, not sure if I’m actually going to cast anything. The boy has put away the sword. We are even.

“Do you want to fight in this?” The boy shrugs.

“I’m just a weapon meant to hurt people, not to have feelings.”

“But you are a human.”

“Cast a spell, Pitch. I’m giving you a chance.”

“You don’t have to fight.”

“It’s my duty.”

“It isn’t.”

“Fighting is all I’ve ever known. Cast a spell!”

“What has the Mage done to you?” Then he explodes, bits and pieces of magic flying everywhere. The whole field is being encompassed by smoke: the smell, the stickiness, the burn. It makes the fight stop as the field has become foggy. I don’t know what to do, so I grab the limp body of the Chosen One and I hightail it to Pitch Manor before the fog is cleared. Hopefully no one notices that we’ve gone. I won’t be able to stay there long if someone does.

We get to the house in record time, I’ve never gone as fast as I just did even with my vampire speed. I greet my sisters who are in the living room before running up the behemoth of a staircase to my room. I secure the door with every spell I know: locking spells, soundproof spells, and even a spell that if someone were to get in, it wouldn’t show that we were in there at all. Plus, the monsters and demons and ghosts that haunt my room will basically do whatever I say.

I place him on my bed. “ **Clean as a whistle** ” I cast on him in an effort to clean the mud from his face. Well, what I thought was mud, but turned out to be a million freckles and moles. I sit next to his sleeping body, untying his shoes and placing them on the floor.

He wakes up with a jolt; huffing and puffing as if he just run a marathon. He looks around in confusion, before his eyes land on me. “Where am I? Where did you take me?”

“You’re in my room. You went off or something… like exploded and I didn’t want to fight you.”

“Take me back there! Take me back there!” He yells.

“Okay, okay, okay. We’ll go back to the battlefield.”

“I have to fight. The Mage is going to so angry. Fuck! Fuck you, Pitch! I’m going to eviscerate you.”

“Strong words there…” I realize I don’t know his name. It’s weird because I feel like I should even though we are mortal enemies bound to kill each other or be killed in this fight. “What’s your name?” He shrugs.

“Don’t have one.”

“Don’t have one what?”

“Name. I don’t have a name. Do I have to spell it out for you, Pitch? **See what I mean?** ” He casts and starts writing that he doesn’t have a name in the air with his wand.

“How do you not have a name?” He shrugs again. “Even weapons have names.”

“The Mage says I’m an object for destruction. I don’t need a name. I am the Chosen One, that is my name.” My heart drops. I don’t want to take him back to the battlefield. I want to name him and make sure he never feels inhuman again.

“I know what it’s like to feel inhuman.” I say to him in an act of postponing our leave for the battlefield. “I’m a vampire.” I’ve never outright said that before. It’s always been something that was kept secret, or my parents told for me. I grow out my fangs and show him.

“Wicked.”

“My father treats me like a monster because of it and I am a monster. I have to kill innocent animals just to stay alive.” It makes me think of the bloodshed on the battlefield. It makes me think that if I wasn’t raised on animal blood and was used to drinking human blood, maybe I would want to fight, just to drink the blood of my opponents. I quickly change the subject, so I don’t start to feel that depersonalization towards humanity, “What happened to your parents? Where is your home?” He shrugs.

“I don’t know. I have always been with the Mage. My home is Watford.” I barely remember Watford. I remember the attack and the winding stairways to the Catacombs. I remember the green trees of the Waving Wood and how the campus always had a smell of petrichor and old books. I remember the promises from my mum that one day I would go there, and I remember the anger of my father when the decree came out about Old Families not being able to attend.

“Do you go to school there?” The Chosen One shakes his head.

“Just live there with the Mage. He teaches me privately and has trained me for this battle. I get unlimited access to the dining hall and library, but I’m not allowed to interact with the students. The Mage says I’ll freak them out and I’m too dangerous for contact with others.” He didn’t seem dangerous or scary. He just seemed out of place.

“You aren’t dangerous.”

“I went off. I’m a weapon of mass destruction. 'And one will come to end us. And one will bring his fall.'”

“It’s just a stupid prophecy.”

“It’s my future. I’m meant to kill. I’m just a weapon.”

“You are just a boy with a lot of magic and a sword. You don’t have to hurt people or animals or things.”

“That’s what I’m trained to do.”

“Well I’m trained to love a girl and have a great big family to carry forth the Pitch name, but I’m not following that.”

“Why not?”

“You are making me reveal all my secrets, aren’t you?” I say. “I’m gay.” Another thing that I barely ever get to say on my own. The boy’s eyebrows furrow.

“Gay?” He says as if he has never heard the word.

“Yeah. I like boys.” His eyebrows are still furrowed. “I am attracted to those of the male gender. I want to have kiss them and have sex with them and hopefully marry one.” He looks taken aback and I hope that the Mage hasn’t taught him that gay people are bad.

“Oh. I don’t know what I’m attracted to.” And why should he if all his life he has been cooped up and trained to be some type of magickal soldier. “I don’t think I’ve ever thought about a gender like that. I don’t think about a lot. How did you know?” Now it’s my turn to shrug.

“I guess I always knew.”

“I don’t know if I’m capable of liking anything or kissing anyone or having sex. I think I’m designed to hurt people.”

“Do you like the Mage?” He shrugs.

“What qualifies liking a person?”

“Do you have fun with him? Do you feel like he cares for you and you care for him?” He looks at me blankly. “Do you want to hurt him?”

“Sometimes, but only when he eggs me on or when he hurts me.”

“He hurts you?”

“When I’m misbehaving. When I’ve been in the library too long, he’ll come and get me. He’ll be so mad I’ve missed my lesson that sometimes he hurts me, but only because I’ve messed up.” Does he have any positive support? I at least have my sisters and Fiona.

“Do you have anyone in your life that doesn’t want to use you or hurt you?” He takes a minute to think before answering.

“Ebb.” He says, as if I’m supposed to know who he is talking about. “She’s this goatherd at Watford. Sometimes I’ll sneak over to her cottage and she’ll make me tea. She gives me stale biscuits and lets me help with the goats. You would like her. She doesn’t think I’m a weapon either.” Then I see the door handle start to move.

“Can you take me there?”

“Where?”

“To Watford. To Ebb.” The door handle is still jiggling. I know there is a small chance they’ll actually get in, but I don’t want to get caught. The boy nods. I open my window and I cast “ **These aren’t the droids you’re looking for** ” and then “ **I wish I could fly.** ” We are both up in the air and the boy takes my hand. We fly through the clouds until the boy casts “ **And we all fall down.** ”

We arrive at the gates of Watford. The familiar smell of petrichor and old books fills my nose as we walk through the gates. There are students milling around, unbeknownst to them that there is a war going on. All they know is about the stress of their homework or their friendship circles, never thinking that there might people risking their lives for the future of this school. We quickly walk through campus to a little farm near what the boy called the hills beyond. He knocks on the door politely and quickly a blonde woman answer. She looks surprised to see him, so surprised that tears start welling in her eyes as she brings the boy into a hug.

“I thought I would never see you again.” She says, letting the boy go and she looks at me. “And who did you bring?”

“Tyrannus Basilton Grimm-Pitch” I say, holding out my hand. She shakes it timidly.

“You are Natasha’s boy. Oh, Simon, you brought me Natasha’s boy. Come in the two of you, I’ll put on the kettle.”

“Simon? I thought you didn’t have a name.” I say as I follow him to a table.

“He didn’t have a name until he first stumbled along my shack. I named him Simon Snow. Proper good name for the Chosen One, aye?” Ebb says, sounding proud of coming up with such a good name. I look at the boy. The name fits him. He looks like a Simon. “Tyrannus, would you like a biscuit?” I nod, not bothering to tell her to call me Baz.

“You knew my mother?” I ask her. Ebb’s eyes start to water again.

“She was the one who gave me this job. She was such a wonderful woman. Too bad she isn’t here to see you.” The kettle starts whistling and Ebb goes to tend to the tea. “Speaking of, what brings you two here? Last time I checked, there was a war going on.”

“We ran away.” Simon says.

“We didn’t want to fight.”

“Tyrannus didn’t want to fight. I told him I had to go back. I tried to explain to him that I’m nothing more than a-”

“Simon, how many times have I told you that you are more than just a weapon? You are a human and I care a lot about you. Now drink your tea before it gets cold.” Ebb says. She’s how I would imagine a mother to be like. I have Daphne, but she is never very motherly to me because I’m not her own.

“I’ve tried to tell him that too.” I look at him as he looks at me. His small pile of curls is falling into his face as he slurps from the goat themed mug.

“Ebb, can we stay here for a while?” Simon asks, almost like a small child.

“Of course, stay here as long as you need.” I drink my tea, desperate for a nap. I’ve barely slept since this war started almost five days ago and this day has been so emotionally tiring. I hadn’t even realized I had fallen asleep at the table till I wake up and see that neither Simon nor Ebb are sitting at the table. They are on the couch talking. I can hear them from where I am.

“Is being gay bad?” I hear Simon ask.

“No. You love who you love, sweetheart. That’s all there is to it.”

“Do you think I’m capable of love?”

“I know you are.”

We stay at Ebb’s. It’s nice to be at a place my mother loved so much. Simon shows me the Catacombs where my mother’s tomb is and where I can drain rats. He shows me the dining hall where we both eat insane amounts of food and then the library. We both spend a lot of time here. Simon and I will each chose a book and sit next to each other reading. It’s the most ideal day for me. A couple of students recognize Simon and say hello, but he never says anything back, just stares at them with a sad glint in his eye, looking at the students like they are aliens.

By the end of a fortnight, we have all heard rumors of the Mage coming back. I tell Simon that we can go to my aunt’s apartment in London. She never cared to be apart of the war no matter how much she despises the Mage. Simon doesn’t want to leave Ebb though. He seems so happy around her that I can’t force him to go with me.

I decide to stay until the rumors are proven true. Simon looks happy when I tell him my plans. He has this huge smile on his face, one that I’ve loved getting to see grow brighter each day that he is away from the Mage. I’m starting to become attracted to him in a more than friends’ way. He’s attractive and sweet and I just want to care for him.

It’s another week before the rumors become true. Simon and I have stopped going to the dining hall and our library visits have become sporadic on the account of the fear of being caught. Thankfully, the one time the Mage stopped by Ebb’s, we were at the library and she told him we hadn’t been there.

Within our time at Watford, I’ve convinced Simon to try and make friends with some students. We’ve become friends with a girl named Penelope Bunce who has agreed to hide us in her room if the time comes. Simon and I have also gotten closer as the weeks go on. I often find myself pointing out funny passages in novels and showing it to him. He often shows me interesting facts he reads about. During the nights, we will cuddle close on the couch for warmth and because of the small surface we are lying on. I like holding him in my arms and soothing him after nightmares. More recently, Ebb and I have been working on a spell to help Simon sleep better. He’s been really grateful for it.

It’s the middle of the night when we hear a loud knock on Ebb’s door. It wakes both Simon and I up. As the knocking continues, I see Ebb in her nightie go toward the door, motioning for us to hide in her room. Simon and I both sit on her bed. I grab his hand, more for my comfort than his.

“I don’t want to go back to being a weapon.”

“You never were a weapon, Simon. You don’t have to go back to him. I’ll protect you.” Simon squeezes my hand before letting it go.

“You will?”

“Of course. You’ll never have to hurt anyone again.” Simon grabs my face and places a kiss on my lips.

“I like you, Tyrannus.”

“I like you too.”

“I like this feeling.”

“I’m glad.”

“Let me check the rooms.” The Mage’s voice echoes from the hall.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea. The goats get cranky when woken up.” I hear Ebb say. That was our code word.

I grab Simon’s hand again and go to the wardrobe. We can both fit in there, but it’s a tight squeeze. The door to the bedroom door opens and there are loud exclaims of normal curse words. I hear the Mage talking to someone and I recognize the voice as my father. In the dim light of the wardrobe, I see a worried expression on Simon’s face. I kiss his cheek and whisper quietly in his ear, “Everything is going to be okay. I’ll protect you always.” And just when I thought that we might be safe, the doors to the wardrobe open and we are face to face with two angry men. My father addresses me first, grabbing my shirt and throwing me down to the ground.

“How dare you think of running away from the war and taking the Chosen One with you? You are a good-for-nothing mage.” The Mage is yelling at Simon too, shouting words at him that no one should ever say to someone they care for. Simon is yelling too and then a loud slap echoes through the room. I look up from my place on the floor to see Simon clutching his cheek. I quickly get up, making my way over to him.

“Simon.” I put my arms around him and kiss his head, not caring who is in the room. As I hug Simon, I feel him heat up and the familiar scent of fire starts to fill up the room.

“What did you do to him?” Ebb says, seeing the scene from the doorframe. The Mage and my father are quick to point their wands at the unsuspecting goatherd.

“Ebb, get away.” Simon whines. “I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“Simon,” She says sadly, obviously wanting to fight the man that has brought her boy (not biologically or on paper, but her heart) pain.

“Please Ebb. This isn’t your fight.” Then Simon goes off and in that puff of smoke, some spells were said from Ebb and the light from the spells tangled with the smoke creating a dazzling light show. Simon falls limp in my arms as the exhaustion from his use of magic hits him. As the smoke clears, Simon’s scent of ash and Ebb’s scent of pine dissolve, and the picture of the Mage and my father laid dead on the floor comes to light.

“Ebb, what did you do?” I ask.

“They were going to hurt you boys. No one hurts the people I care about.”

“I guess the war is over then. Both leaders are dead.” I say. Ebb comes over to me, grabbing Simon and putting him on the bed.

“Drink up.” She says to me even though she knows I don’t drink from humans.

“What are you going to do?”

“Call the Coven and admit what I’ve done. I’ll plead self-defense and hopefully be able to go without a sentence and take care of you boys for a while.”

“But what if they say you are guilty?”

“You’ll come and visit me. You’ll take care of my goats.”

“Ebb...” I say.

“The war is over, Tyrannus. Go sleep.”

I look at my dead father. I feel some guilt, some sadness, and some dread over the thought of my sisters growing up without me or my father. But mostly I feel happiness. There is no true winner of the war. Neither side was fit to win and now we will hopefully have a new leader that will make the World of Mages inclusive and kind, who will rule with a firm grip, and never lose sight of what they believe in. They will never use a human as a weapon nor magic. I look at Simon, climbing over the dead body of the man who sent vampires into Watford, and I push the hair off Simon’s sweaty forehead. He looks so cute in the Watford uniform Ebb got for us. He lies there as peacefully as one could be after going off, but I know he will be at peace when he finds out he will never have to be a weapon again. He can be Simon; a human with feelings, likes, and dislikes. A human boy who will like whom he wants to like, kiss whom he wants to kiss, have sex with and marry whomever he wants to. A human boy who will hopefully want to stay with me because even though we came from two opposing sides of war, we aren’t that different in the end.


End file.
